I Loved Her First
by RokuKuKyu
Summary: AU Pezberry - What if Santana and Brittany were never the background cheerleaders? What would happen if Rachel was the only one who really understood Santana?
1. Chapter 1

She leaned against the wall of the entrance to their quaint living room. Her eyes were transfixed on the lamp in the corner and the soft amber glow it was giving off. Six in the morning and there wasn't a hint of exhaustion in the other woman's demeanor. An iridescent halo seemed to be balanced above her head as she contentedly read yet another Broadway autobiography. She didn't even look up from the page she was so engrossed in as she smiled a greeting to her admirer.

"Morning, love."

Her heart fluttered as the words carried by the soft voice hit their mark. She smiled, knowing it would go unnoticed, and replied with the same words as she uncrossed her arms and slowly made her way to the couch adjacent to the occupied chair. She stayed silent as the morning progressed and the reading continued, at one point accepting the gestured offer of a sip of green tea and honey from the cream colored soup cup. As she carefully placed the warm drink back into her lover's waiting hand, she tried to ignore the racing thoughts in her mind. The thoughts that had been there for years. Thoughts that had been present more so now than ever before. Thoughts that she was letting consume her.

Twelve years was a long time for any relationship, especially one that had started in high school. She could remember with ease her first time ever meeting Rachel. She would never forget the pain she had caused her those first couple of years of knowing each other. But she now considered it a means to an end. Because even though her eyes showed her broken heart, Rachel never let her words reflect that. No matter what she endured, she never broke. It was as frustrating as it was endearing. After all the taunting, the plotting, the destruction of relationships with her boyfriends, Rachel still was completely forgiving. Her heart was what made Santana fall in love with her in the first place. When she had finally revealed her feelings for the aspiring actress her senior year, Rachel had barely flinched.

"I kind of figured. I mean, Quinn at least had motive for hating me, me having dated both of her baby daddies and such, but you? You know, love and hate are just two different ends of the same spectrum. Not much of a distance between them."

Santana had sat in the choir room listening to her pulse pounding loudly as she waited for the next line to be one of rejection. But the next line hadn't come. Rachel had Santana's hand in hers and a sweet smile on her face. Santana hadn't been sure of where it was going but a few days later, Finn was single and Santana was spoken for. She still couldn't believe she had managed to get Rachel to agree to keeping it a secret until New York, but it was Rachel. Forever sacrificing herself for everyone else. Over the years it had gotten worse. Santana struggled often with feeling like she was being a disadvantage to Rachel. Someone who had so many dreams and plans during high school had given it all up for love. Even after repeated break ups and make ups. It had gotten to the point that she had revealed to Santana her phobia of restaurants.

"Do you know that every time you've broken up with me it's been over a meal? I can never tell if I should accept a dinner invitation or not, to be honest." She had dramatically thrown her hands up in surrender in the peaceful jungle café. Santana's expression scrunched up as she thought about it. Rachel was correct, of course. She had been planning to break up with her again that very afternoon. She had always believed bad news went better with good food.

"Why do you keep letting me come back then, Rachel? When are you going to stop being such a pushover?"

"When you stop being worth it."

Santana had been dumbfounded by the simple statement. Six words had summed up their relationship for her. She made Rachel her wife during their sophomore year in college.

Now, sitting in the house they had turned into a home together, Santana was in a place of self hatred again. The plans she had made for the day ran through her mind over and over again accompanied by a blaring alarm telling her it wasn't too late to cancel. As if sensing her discomfort, Rachel glanced to her right and questioned her.

"Are you feeling okay?"

Santana managed a painful smile as she nodded in affirmation. She couldn't hide anything from Rachel and she wasn't going to last long if she stayed put. She quickly ran her hands over her face as she stood up to leave.

"I have a long day ahead of me so I better get started." She briskly walked in the direction of the bedroom to prepare for a shower. She paused when she heard her name being called in a broken whisper.

"Yes?" A moment passed.

"I love you." Santana's face cringed as she took a breath. She turned around and returned to the corner of the room where Rachel sat. She leaned down and locked her eyes on Rachel's.

"I love you too. Always." She punctuated the vow with a kiss before walking away once more.


	2. Chapter 2

There was loud music blaring on the PA system and absolutely no one on the dance floor. It was like high school all over again. But it actually was high school all over again. Santana stood in the double doors unsure of her outfit of choice. Draped in the classic 'little black dress' with a simple pearl necklace and earring set accenting the garment, she still felt overdressed for the demure gym party. She reached up to pull a few pins out of her hair but another hand grabbed her wrist before she had the first pin halfway out of the tight bun.

"Don't you dare. That took far too long to tame, woman."

She dropped her hand back to her side, clenching it into a nervous fist. She looked around the gym at the familiar faces of her graduating classes and some of the not so familiar faces. With a class of only 221, she figured she'd seen them all. But high school hadn't been a place she'd wanted too many memories of. The fact that she'd spent nine hundred dollars on airfare just to get them to Lima then home to New York was still a mystery to her. But there wasn't much she wouldn't do for Rachel. She was just happy to have the small victory of not having to stay with Rachel's dads while they were in town. Seventy dollars a night for a hotel room was a small grievance to three hundred dollars per plane ticket. Rachel had thought to argue it but she understood Santana's discomfort with coming home. She gave a happy nod and informed her parents of the plans before heading for the airport.

The last hour before the reunion, Santana had changed her mind about attending 20 times while pacing back and forth in the small hotel room. Rachel was seated on the bed with her back against the headboard and her head tilted forward slightly to keep her curls from being flattened. She wore a dress similar to Santana's but little dark blue butterflies shone when the light reflected off the fabric just right.

"I just don't understand why we're here. Life goes on. Why are we looking back?"

"Because, Santana, some people do care about old friends. It's nice to see how they're doing and where they're headed and if their dreams ever came to fruition."

"But I didn't even have friends and your…" She stopped herself. She couldn't finish that sentence without it coming out wrong. How do you condemn someone for not achieving their dreams when they sacrificed theirs for yours? She paused her walk and faced the bed. Her eyes were aged far more than her body. "It just seems like a lot of money and energy wasted on one pointless night, Rachel." Rachel patted the empty spot next to her on the right side of the bed. Santana sat down and lifted her legs into the bed smoothly as she turned her back to the headboard.

"Just think of it as a very short vacation. We've been promising the grandparents quality time, you needed a break from the city rush, and maybe I needed something to be proud of." She placed her left hand on the back of Santana's bare neck and gently turned the other woman's head to face her. "Don't you ever think my dreams didn't come true. They just changed. Are we clear?" Santana nodded a yes. "Good. Now that that's settled, we really should get going." She placed a quick peck on Santana's lips, before getting off the bed but, as if she forgot something, she went in for another kiss. Her hand was still on Santana's neck as the kiss lasted longer than she had intended. Santana kissed her back, trying to match her passion but she was caught off guard as Rachel's grip got tighter, pulling Santana on top of her. Her hands ran along the curves of Rachel's body over the silk like fabric easily. She wasn't at all opposed to what was occurring until her hands reached the smaller woman's hair. She instantly remembered why the curls were there in the first place and tried to rein herself in. "R…Rach… reunion" she managed to breathe between kisses. Rachel's hands were still seeking out Santana's weak spots. She moved her left hand, putting a little pressure with one finger on a point behind Santana's ear, causing her to bite Rachel's lip before completely breaking free of her hold. She stood up next to the bed, flustered with wide eyes as she insisted again that they head out for the reunion. Rachel sat up and smiled an apology.

"Sorry. Hormones."

Now they stood at the entrance to their ten year high school reunion, hand in hand, the Lima lesbians. '_Yeah, this won't be bad_ _at all'_ Santana thought to herself. She followed Rachel's lead as they entered the musty gym. The music shifted to a LMFAO song and Santana rolled her eyes, wondering what DJ thought it was a great idea to play such old crap. Her headache grew stronger with each song change as they went from group to group. She was completely detached from every conversation her wife initiated but she caught little morsels of the content. _"Suburbs of New York City… practicing law… happy family… This? Oh I designed it myself…"_ Santana's eyes caught the gaze of a tall man with a scruffy beard. He looked like he had just gotten home from Sunday service, black suit with a blue button down shirt, unbuttoned at the neck and no tie. He struggled to register recognition until he saw who Santana was standing next to. She could see a small flinch in the corner of his right eye as he looked back to her. He nodded his head somberly and raised his glass to her before walking in the opposite direction. She felt a small twinge of sympathy for him. He had never been what was best for Rachel, but at times, she felt maybe she wasn't either. She leaned in and whispered a question to Rachel. With a nod of approval, she smiled and waved a goodbye to the former members of the calculus club.

She crossed over to the table filled with treats and went straight to the end where the miniature bottles of water were chilling in a bucket of ice. She grabbed two and reached blindly back for a napkin to wipe off the excess water. Her hand was on top of something warm and she jumped as she turned around to see what she had touched. The bottles hit the floor and rolled away as she looked up into cool blue eyes. She hadn't heard the bottles hit the wood and she wasn't hearing what the girl was saying now. She shook herself awake as she tried to remember how to hear again.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"I was just saying sorry for scaring you. I didn't mean to."

"Oh! No no, it's okay. It was my fault. I should look where my hands are going. Wait. That sounds wrong. I mean, God! I'm just out of it, Geez. Ignore me?"

The woman laughed as she stooped down and grabbed one of the bottles that she had managed to stop with her foot. The other one had made a fantastic escape, never to be seen again until someone filed a slip and fall lawsuit against William McKinley High School. She placed it on the table next to them and offered her hand in greeting.

"I'm Brittany."

Santana accepted the hand and politely shook it.

"It's nice to meet you, Brittany. I'm Santana."

"I know. And we've met before. But it's nice to think I may leave an impression this time?"

Santana tried to place the woman's face to all the faces she could recall from high school but nothing came to mind. Rachel walked up at that moment and relieved her of her literal trivial pursuit. Her face was paler than usual but it lit up as she scooped the tall blonde into a massive bear hug. Brittany hugged her back without even knowing who it was. She lifted her off the ground then put her back down to get a look at her. Once she saw her face she picked her up in another hug. They parted again and laughed as they assessed each other. Santana stood away from the reunion still thoroughly confused.

"How have you been? My God, you look amazing! I hope I look as good as you on my next 21st birthday!"

Brittany laughed as the adulation continued and she fired back with questions of her own.

"What about you? You're never going to age. I heard you're in New York. Why haven't I seen your name on the Broadway radars yet? Letting everyone else have a little time to shine before you put them all to shame?"

Rachel then remembered her reason for approaching the table. She placed her right arm around Santana's waist and her left hand on her shoulder, her wedding ring clearly visible. "I simply decided to shine for only one." Santana blushed at the statement and kissed Rachel on the cheek. Brittany smiled at the interaction. "Well congratulations! As long as you're happy, then we'll all just have to suffer not seeing you on that stage." She placed her finger to her face, tracing the trail of an imaginary teardrop.

Rachel laughed as she revealed that she was indeed content. But her face was looking pale again as she turned to face Santana.

"Babe? I'm not feeling so great right now. Is it okay if I head back to the hotel?"

"Of course! I'll get our coats." Rachel threw both hands up in a blocking stance.

"No. I'll go. You stay. It'd be a wasted trip if neither of us took the time to enjoy the evening. Brittany? You take good care of her for me?" Brittany gave her a salute. Santana was not pleased.

"Rachel, it's not a big deal. I don't want you going alone. Especially if you're ill. Who's gonna take care of you, hmm?" Rachel placed a hand on her stomach as she mulled it over.

"You're right. I'll go to my dads'. I'm just going to pass out anyway but it'll be nice to give them someone else to dote over for a little while." Not accepting another word, she returned Santana's kiss on the cheek and motioned for Brittany to lean down so she could give her the same. She waved goodbye to them both as she exited the gym. Santana looked around the gym nervously. She pointed to an empty table and gave a 'do you wanna' head nod to Brittany who grabbed her saucer of sweets and led the way. Santana took note of every bit of the woman from her sleek golden hair to her slender legs with muscles that seemed to contract with ever graceful step she made. She blinked away the image she was storing as she double stepped to reach the table first and pull out her chair for her. Brittany was surprised by the gesture but accepted it. Not before she did the same for Santana though. As they settled into their chairs, Santana spit out the first thing she could think of.

"So you and Rachel. What was that?" Brittany nestled a couple grapes in her right cheek as she answered.

"We were on the Quiz Bowl team together our freshman year. She was fine arts and I was pop culture, which, it might surprise you to know, is _not_ about the Jo Bros and Justin Bieber. She had to help me a lot. I'm surprised I even lasted that first season. It was my only season on the team."

"Wait. You went to McKinley for 4 years and I'm just now meeting you?"

"Actually, two and a half. My father's job moved us half way through sophomore year and brought us back my senior year. And I told you. This is not our first time meeting. We had U.S. History II. I even loaned you a pencil once. But… you were preoccupied most of the time." Santana thought back to her U.S. History class. Sophomore year had been a complete blur for her. The only courses she paid attention to were ones involving Rachel so it made sense she wouldn't remember Brittany. Even with her startling eyes.

"So. You and Rachel. What is that?" She smiled slyly at Santana as she added two more grapes to her chipmunk cupboard, apparently having already consumed the earlier batch. Santana's eyes sparkled as she thought about the best way to answer the question.

"That's love." Brittany nodded in an understanding manner.

"She your first?"

"Yeah." She thought harder about it, not trying to mask the concentration that was surely showing on her face with a frown and scrunched eyebrows. "I never thought about it before but there's never been anyone else for me. She was there through my worst and stood by me to get me to my best. My first and my last." She smiled as she looked at Brittany again.

"Your first and only." Brittany was still smiling as she corrected Santana's statement. Santana shrugged, assuming the statements were just interchangeable. But Brittany pressed on.

"No one knew you two were a couple back in high school. There were little signs that people may have picked up on. I may have been in a crushing mood of my own so I certainly did. But it was a secret. You're still tense being back here. You were instantly shy when I mentioned Broadway. It was cute but still… it's not wrong to be doubtful Santana." She sat back in the orange bucket chair and crossed one leg over the other. Santana's attention was drawn to the hemline of the silver dress that stopped just above the knee. It didn't go unnoticed by Brittany.

"I'm not trying to condemn anything about your relationship. I'm all for the fairytale first love scenarios. I'm just suggesting you figure yourself out, San. Because until you think you're worth her time, you never will be. And that's not fair to either of you."

Santana sat back in her own chair, now feeling slightly offended.

"And you're an authority on this?" Brittany didn't try to disarm her. She simply gave her an answer.

"No. But I'm still learning. I'd say you have no idea what it's like to stay in the background and only be able to watch while your heart is burning for someone, but I was in the background. I watched as you were in a background of your own. As life went on, I realized very quickly that blindly trying to fill a void was even worse than just admitting the void existed." Santana's head was reeling as she thought back to Finn's earlier silent toast to her. What was Brittany talking about? Background? Crushing? San? No one called her San. Not even Rachel. Who considers themselves that intimate with a stranger? She was receiving far too much information in a short time period and she wasn't in the mood. She stood up quickly and pushed in her chair. Making no foolish excuses she just said she had to go and left Brittany to regale in her high school memories alone. She called for a taxi and began walking toward Rachel's old home just in case she was followed.

She couldn't wait to curl up under the blankets with Rachel, regardless of the fact that it was in her old bedroom. Rachel snuggled into Santana's body without fully waking up.

"Did you have fun?"

"…yeah."

"Wasn't Brittany just lovely?"

Santana wrapped her own body around Rachel's even tighter. She kissed her on the forehead before resting her head atop hers.

"Yes. Just lovely."


	3. Chapter 3

_Fedex, CVS, Whole Foods, Panera… _She ran over her list in her head not wanting to forget a single errand on her lunch break. An unseasonably warm day forced her into the backseat of a yellow cab. She would have preferred to walk but her hair would have been a quick victim to the disgusting humidity. As she ran over her list again she noticed the gray haired man in the driver's seat was staring at her in the mirror. She widened her eyes at the reflection and he did the same behind his trifocal glasses. She widened her eyes even more, as did he. She widened her eyes until her face hurt. He squinted at her in response.

"So then you're _not_ a Yankees fan? The Mets have their potential too. Can't fault ya there. But the season's just starting. We'll see."

She realized she was involved in a conversation that she hadn't been paying attention to and it must have began the moment he started the meter. She widened her eyes once more and gave him a patronizing smile. She brushed the loose curls back from her face and thought it over. _Is there something about me that signals 'tourist'?_ She was dressed in a purple silk button down blouse. Her creased brown khakis flared just before hitting the buckles of her same colored faux leather ankle boots. She fanned herself with the tan legal envelope, glad it held such a lengthy contract. He was still talking to her.

"Excuse me."

He went on about the proposals for the 25th anniversary of 9/11. 2 years early.

"Sir?"

Apparently there was another action film that would be shutting down parts of Times Square in May.

"HELLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO?"

He finally stopped talking and looked at his passenger in the rearview mirror.

"Hi, yeah. We're not friends and I'm not interested in participating in a bootleg version of Taxicab Confessions so can we just..?"

She had no desire to finish the sentence and waved him off as she fell back against the seat again and waited to arrive at her destination. Caleb's cries had woken her 3 hours before the alarm clock and all the soggy frozen waffles in the world hadn't eased his pain. Six different teething rings and not one was up to his standards. He was picky. Just like his mother. Traffic was moving slow enough to let the bike messengers serpentine easily between the stationary cars. She knew at this pace that her lunch hour would last longer than the 60 minutes she set aside. She leaned forward considering asking the driver to find a better route but decided against it and settled back into her seat. It was too much of an effort. Everything was too much of an effort. Even blinking was exhausting her. So much to the point that her eyes stopped blinking for the duration of her trip. She woke up to the cabbie tapping her on her shoulder lightly. She squinted at the sunlight that was seeping past the old man and into the open car door. His face was gentle and concerned as he offered his hand to help her exit. He looked like he was only a few years older than her father. She regretted the way she had spoken to him earlier as she took his hand and stepped out of the cab then reached back to retrieve her attaché case. She muttered an apology and a thank you before paying him.

"Eh. Working mother. It's no bother, dear. Take care of yourself, yeah?"

She questioned him with a look. He hadn't even noticed it but he answered her anyway.

"You talk in your sleep. Which it sounds like you need more of." He closed her door and shuffled back around to the driver's side. He hugged his body close to the vehicle and placed his intertwined hands atop the dingy roof.

"Y'know, my wife used to have these little rubbery fingertip things. Like a thimble, y'know? But longer than a thimble so she could keep a grip with her thumb. I don't know. When my girls were little, they'd just gnaw and gnaw on her finger and those rubber things. I guess I'm not much help since I don't even know what they were but maybe you can find something like that and give yourself a little peace and a lot more drool free waffles."

She smiled her gratitude and gave a head nod that he reciprocated before getting back in his cab and pulling slowly back into traffic. She cautiously stepped backward until she was swallowed into the flow of the pedestrians. She was at a level in her career where she was free to make her own hours. As long as she filled her quota of billable hours, no one paid her any mind. But Santana preferred to keep herself to a rigid nine to five schedule. The busier she stayed, the less time her mind had to run freely. Idle hands and idle minds… But as she slowed her pace and took a moment to let the heat from the sun seep through the thin fabric of her clothes, she thought back to the summer after her senior year of high school. She remembered how focused Rachel had been on getting everything packed and shipped to New York. Half of her room had been stored in brown moving boxes and lined up on a wall in the Berry garage before they had even graduated. "Proper preparation is the key to all success. And nepotism." Santana had laughed when Rachel presented her with a summer itinerary after making that statement.

/ / /

"Where's your swimsuit?" Rachel looked at her with a blank stare. Santana stayed seated on the bed and let the question sink in.

"I don't really see how that's relevant to the conversation at hand, Santana." Santana raised her eyebrows as if to ask "is that so?" before she stood from the bed and walked over to the dresser and opened the top drawer. "That's okay. So where's your swimsuit?" Rachel stomped over to the dresser and shut the drawer just as Santana pulled her hand out. She smirked in response to Rachel's frown.

"This is serious. We are two naive girls from Ohio trying to make an impact in New York City next fall, Santana. We need every advantage we can get! Now will you look over the itinerary so that we can make sure that everything will be ready in time?" Santana had always found Rachel's angry moments to be attractive but she never told her that. And she never would. Some secrets were best left unshared. She looked at the paper in her hand, feigning concentration for a few seconds before speaking again.

"Tell you what. If you tell me where your swimsuit is, I'll give this my most "serious" consideration." She made a stern face to seal the deal. Rachel's eyes narrowed as she contemplated the treaty. She agreed with a huff and bent down to the bottom drawer of the dresser and pulled out a bright yellow one piece suit. She shoved it in Santana's direction with enough force to make Santana step to the side to avoid a possible punch to the shoulder. She laughed as she straightened up.

"Good. Now go put it on. And hurry up. We have a lot to do this summer, apparently." She waved the itinerary in the air and smiled. Rachel looked stunned and anchored herself to protest. "Don't do it. We don't have time for arguments and you know I'm not going to give up so you might as well just get changed, grab your sunscreen, and meet me in the driveway in 5 minutes." She stepped forward again and tentatively kissed Rachel before turning to leave. "Don't worry about a towel. I've got you covered." She skipped down the stairs and headed for her car to wait. Rachel got in the car without a word or a glance toward Santana. Even after being on the road for 40 minutes with not a sound but the radio and Santana's soft singing, she stayed silent. She had assumed they were going to the county pool but that was thirty miles back in the rearview mirror and nowhere near the highway. She looked over at Santana as the radio played another dance tune. Santana's smile broadened as the lyrics started.

"_Yellow diamonds in the light… Now we're standing side by side._"

Rachel smiled instinctively then quickly tried to replace it with a scowl. Santana was sharp though and caught the smile before it disappeared. She placed her free hand palm up on the center console between them. Rachel slowly traced the lines inside that hand with her middle finger before laying the palm of her left hand flat against it. She stretched each finger to match Santana's fingers before she let her fingers fall in the spaces between them. She went back to staring at the fields of horses passing by as Santana continued her subtle serenade. She drove for another hour away from their friends, their family, the strangers that would judge them, everyone and everything was 100 miles behind them before she parked the car at the coast of Lake Erie. Rachel's eyes were shining just as bright as the sun when she took it all in. She looked over to Santana with a breathtaking smile before she swung open the car door and tried to get out, forgetting to unbuckle her seat belt first. Santana pressed the release button quickly and Rachel untangled herself from the belt. She tossed her blue and white floral wrap in Santana's direction as she made her way toward the beach. Santana rolled it up and stuffed it in the bag she retrieved from the backseat before exiting the car herself. She quickly stripped herself of her jeans and shirt and threw the clothes in the car before locking it up. As she put her flip flops back on, she looked toward the water to see how far Rachel had gone. It was a week into the summer break and just after noon. She could barely see anything in the crowd but she continued searching for a glimmer of yellow. She took a pair of aviator style sunglasses out of the bag and put them on as she stepped into the sand. Her steps were slow as she looked left and right for her other half. She was halfway to the water when she hit the ground before she even realized what took her down. The brown curls tickled her face as Rachel lay on top of her. She pulled the sunglasses off Santana's face and placed them on her own.

"How do I look?"

Santana's hands were still gripping the attacker's hips but she relaxed her grip as her heartbeat slowed down slightly. She lifted the shades, pushing them back over Rachel's hair like a headband. Her heart started to race again as she took in the sight of the smiling girl hovering over her.

"More and more beautiful every day."

They spent the day in and out of the water until the sun was just a sliver of orange on the horizon. When the cold snuck up on them, they wrapped the towels around them, refusing to return to the real world so soon. Santana pulled a thin blanket from her bag and wrapped it around both of their bodies. Rachel nestled herself even closer to Santana and rested her head on Santana's shoulder.

"I love you."

It was quiet. Light. As if it was something just uttered in passing. Like she had been talking in her sleep. But it was the first time Santana had heard the words. She struggled to open her mouth and reply. The words were lodged in her throat. She cleared her throat and tried again. She felt Rachel take her hand in that moment and it was as if she was granting her a pardon. Santana accepted the hand but not the pardon as the words flowed out like smooth honey.

"I love you too." They cuddled there letting the night cover them in their fragile bubble.

/ / /

She caught back up to the pace around her as she thought of what had changed. She absently looked at the items on display in the storefronts as she wondered how she had gone from being so free willed and in love to someone needing a schedule just to remember to breathe.

Out of the corner of her eye she noticed a reflection of yellow in the angled window near the door of the small bakery. She turned her body toward the window and saw clearer that it was a tall blonde approaching behind her. She blew it off as just her mind playing tricks on her but then the blonde caught her eye in the store window as well and excitedly smiled at her. Santana quickly walked back toward the street and right into a metal trash receptacle. She changed directions back toward the store fronts but the handle of her case was caught on one of the wrought iron hooks. She ran her hand over her face slowly as she resigned to the woman calling her name out. Brittany took two quick skips and caught up with Santana. Santana strained a tight smile, silently cursing the 'Clean New York' campaign.

"Were you running away from me?" Santana was taken aback by the accusation and struggled to think of an answer that wouldn't hurt Brittany's feelings. But Brittany was smiling as she waited.

"Don't be ridiculous! I'm just rushing to get things done on my lunch break. I didn't even see you." Brittany nodded her head still wearing a smile on her face.

"You were running away from me." A smile slyly pulled at the corner of Santana's mouth. She still didn't admit the truth as she brushed herself off and checked for any damage to her attaché case.

"How are you, Brittany?"

"Wonderful. You? Have you eaten yet? I just passed by a sidewalk cafe around the corner. My treat?"

"As sweet as that is, I really have a lot to do and I'm already behind."

"You owe me."

"I'm sorry?"

"You owe me. You ran out on me last time. And now you're running again. Is this your thing? Running?"

Santana stood up straight and answered her coolly.

"When it comes to you? Maybe it should be."

Brittany took a step back and processed the words. She nodded her head slowly but didn't seem offended.

"Fair enough. But you still need to eat. And it's free. Win win?"

Santana looked back again at the street, still considering an escape attempt. But she was tired, and hungry, and intrigued. Her gaze returned to the pastries in the window. Her head tilted to the side as if something was starting to make sense. She turned back to her prospective lunch date and smiled willingly.

"I want cake." Brittany looked to her left at the bakery and smiled as she walked to the door. She yanked on the warm metal handle and waved Santana in with her other hand.

"After you."

They walked into the cooler environment and were immediately greeted with the sweet aromas of different festive pastries. Santana breathed it all in like a child on her fifth birthday. She had adapted to a mostly vegan lifestyle at home even though Rachel had never asked her to. Even with the option of indulging while away from home, she refrained. But she was reminiscent. She wanted a small bit of her old self back. Her eyes widened as she recognized a treat that she hadn't had since she left Ohio. As she ordered a slice of atomic cake, she couldn't help but laugh. She was nearly 30 years old and excited about cake. Brittany was bemused but she didn't ask. She ordered banana cream pie for herself, milk for them both, paid the cashier and they sat at a small table on the wall opposite the counter. Santana easily scooped a forkful of all six layers into her mouth and let it dissolve on her tongue for a moment before acknowledging the girl across from her. She squinted her eyes and sized her up. She was without a doubt beautiful. There was a sweetness about her that Santana hadn't noticed at the reunion. Perhaps because she was focused on her pie and not hinting at a possible seduction. But Santana was still on her guard.

"So… you live in New York? I would think that Rachel would have had you over to the house by now."

"No. Not permanently. I travel a lot. I'm here for a couple more days. How is Rachel?"

"She's great. So are the kids." Brittany leaned back in her seat with a surprised look. Santana took another bite of cake and chased it with a sip of milk. She nodded her head before continuing with a bit of disdain in her voice. "Yeah. Little Barbra and Caleb. Rachel was actually pregnant with Caleb at the reunion but I guess we really didn't get a chance to get all caught up that night, did we?"

The stinging effect of her words was more than apparent on Brittany's face but Santana didn't recant the statement. She hadn't been brutally honest in awhile and she'd forgotten how much of a relief it was. Brittany rebounded in seconds and shrugged her shoulders as she went for another bite of pie. Santana stared at her in disbelief. Her attacks were never ignored yet this woman sat across from her eating pie as if she had just told her it was going to drizzle in the morning.

"So how old is Barbra?"

"I… she's three, almost fo- what are you doing?" Brittany looked down at her plate and the fork in her hand. It seemed as if she were trying to figure out other possible scenarios in which that would be the position of her body. Finding none, she answered cautiously.

"I'm eating. What are you doing?" She smiled as if they were playing a guessing game. Santana crossed her arms at her chest and leaned away from the table. "I'm waiting for an apology." Brittany laid the fork down on the table. She was still smiling as she complied with Santana's wish.

"I _am_ sorry. I had no right to behave that way and you didn't deserve to be blindsided like that. Some of it was out of jealousy but I'm not sorry for everything I said." Santana let her arms rest on the table again. "Yes, I said some things that should not be said to a married woman but it was unintentional. You can never gauge what you'll say to your high school crush the next time you get a moment alone with them. I screwed up. I missed my chance with you and that's my fault. But when I look at you, Santana, I still see the same girl that used to make me catch my breath when she walked by me in the hallway. When you talk I can't help but to remember the way your voice used to belt out soul wrenching melodies in the school musicals. Just being around you makes me feel like I'm in high school again. Like I have a chance."

"But you _don't_ have a chance because I have Ra-"

"Rachel. I know. But that's not what I meant. I meant you make me feel like I'm in high school because you seem like you're still in high school too. You're still so timid and withdrawn. Like you're still not completely yourself. That thing I said about trying to fill a void. I don't know, San. You just really seem like you're trying to figure out who you are instead of just being who you are. Just because you're not mine doesn't mean I can't care about you. And the way I see it, if you were to be the best you, your life would be better, which means Rachel's would be too. Then I'd be helping out an old friend as well. Bonus karma points for me!"

Santana thought it over. "Don't forget about karma points for Barbra and Caleb. You do this shrink thing professionally or what?"

"Oh God, no! Life experience has treated me much better than books ever did. Street smarts and numbers. That's my thing." She winked and picked up her fork. Her head tilted to the side before she pierced the pie again. "You let her name your daughter Barbra, huh?"

Santana laughed. "She wanted to name her Hadassah. Barbra felt like a good compromise."

Brittany shook her head with a knowing smile. It was obvious that Santana was much more book smart than street smart. _"Well played, Rachel"_, she thought to herself as she finished her pie.


	4. Chapter 4

Rachel stayed seated in the corner of the room staring at a page that she had long since finished reading. Her cup was empty but her throat was itchy and desperately craving soothing. Santana had wished her a good day an hour earlier. She had smiled and pretended to not be alarmed by the despondent tone of her voice but the facade melted away with the closing of the door. She had wanted to ask what was wrong but Santana never answered honestly. And there had been something wrong for months. Santana had been taking longer shifts at work, furrowing her brow over financial statements, and keeping their expenses to a minimum. Rachel hadn't questioned it because even with the cutbacks, the family was still well provided for. But she hadn't the time to focus on it. She lifted herself from the chair and returned the book to the empty spot on the bookshelf before shuffling off to the kitchen. She rinsed her empty mug in the basin before placing it in the dishwasher. She exhaled a heavy breath then hurried to shower, trying to beat the clock. The shampoo tingled along her scalp lightening her thoughts as she rinsed it from her hair. She stepped out onto the padded shower rug and let the warm fabric absorb the water from the soles of her feet as she tousled her wet hair with a thick terry cloth towel. She twirled it up into a wrap and grabbed a second towel off the rack for her body. She sped through the drying process before replenishing her skin with a cream moisturizer. The faint ringing of a phone slowed her down for a moment but she continued as it passed. She slipped her underwear on and shimmied into a pair of skinny jeans before pulling a long sleeve v-neck top over her toweled head and down her torso. She pulled the sleeves up to just below her elbows as she walked over to the disheveled bed. It was like clockwork for her. Tea and reading, see Santana off, shower, straighten the room, and take a breath before the kids awaken. She yanked the blanket downward then walked back to the top and yanked it back up again before smoothing it along each side. She heard the ringing again as she fluffed the pillows on her side of the bed. By the time she rounded to Santana's side and lifted the oversized pillow there, the phone had stopped ringing again. She placed the Blackberry on the nightstand and continued turning the bed into a page from an IKEA catalog. It wasn't like Santana to forget her cell but it had happened once or twice before. She stepped back and admired her work on the bed then picked up the phone to call Santana from it. She pressed a button to view the missed calls, thinking maybe Santana was calling herself to locate her phone.

It was a name she hadn't heard in over a year. Not since that day Santana ran into her on her lunch break. Two missed calls and the phone was ringing again. She answered it.

"Hello?"

"Hello? I… I'm sorry. I think I have the wrong number."

"No! Brittany, it's me, Rachel. Were you calling for Santana?"

"Rachel! Wow! It's been so long! How are you?"

"I'm fine..? Did you need something from Santana?"

"Oh right. Is she around?"

"She's at work right now but she left her cell phone here… Is there a message you wanted to leave? I could have her call you back when she gets home."

Brittany didn't answer right away, considering the offer, Rachel assumed.

"Brittany?"

"Sorry! There was a cat pic- um, no. This can't wait that long. As dumb as it sounds, in all our conversations, I've never asked her for her office number. You wouldn't happen to have it handy, would you?"

"957-3777." She rattled the number off listlessly and was compensated with an eager thank you from Brittany.

"So life is great? You're still aging beautifully? The little ones growing like sprouts? Well, as much as sprouts can grow, considering that at least half of their DNA is short."

Rachel was silent and unsure of how to react to the unexpected chit chat. Brittany was acting as if they were next door neighbors just catching up after one of them returned from a month long excursion.

"Everything is wonderful, Brittany. But I really need to get back to my housework."

"Of course, of course! I should be making that call anyway. You take care of yourself, okay?"

"Okay! You too." She faked enthusiasm and hung up without saying goodbye. It was just a bad dream. The thoughts in her head weren't real. There was a better explanation for why her wife was still in close contact with a woman with whom she never admitted having shared more than a coincidental meal. It wasn't a far fall as she plopped down on the high bed, not caring about the rippling of the covers. She often leaped to the worst possible conclusion then worked her way backwards but she tried to force herself to be normal for once and just write it off as nothing.

"Mommy?"

She snapped her head to the sound of her daughter's sleepy call. Barbra was still rubbing her eyes as she waddled to the bed. She stretched both arms and gripped the blanket with her face buried in the mattress at the foot of the bed. The only thing visible was her dark curls. Rachel leaned over with a smile and pulled the little girl up gently as she kicked her little legs to climb up on her own. She rolled onto her back as she basked in her triumph. Rachel fell backwards on the pillow top mattress, her body forming the top bar of a T shape perpendicular to her daughter's body. The phone was still firmly attached to the palm of her left hand.

"Morning, Mommy."

"Morning, daughter. Did you sleep well?"

"Yeah. Caleb's still sleeping."

"Should we wake him?"

"I guess we can. But he has really bad gas though. Really. Bad."

Rachel placed her right hand on her stomach as she laughed at the warning. "Then maybe we should let him sleep it off a little bit longer, hmm?"

Barbra didn't answer her but Rachel could feel her head rubbing against her side as she nodded. They both lay on the bed staring at the ceiling for another five minutes before Barbra began to fidget restlessly. Rachel sat back up and slid off the bed into a standing position.

"Alright, alright. What's for breakfast?"

Barbra leaped to her feet, still standing on the bed as she screamed "pancakes!"

Rachel gave her a warning glare and she quickly plopped down to a seated position on the bed and slid off to the floor. She took her mother's hand and they exited the bedroom. Rachel squeezed the tiny hand in her palm.

"I could definitely go for pancakes. You're cooking them, right?" Barbra yanked herself free and stood her ground. "Mommmmm! You know I'm not allowed to touch the stove!" Rachel spun around and kneeled down in front of the upset child. She placed a finger to her smiling lips, encouraging her to lower her voice.

"Mommy is just a little forgetful this morning. Forgive me?" Little Barbra looked unconvinced as she tapped a finger on her bottom lip. "Can they be dollar pancakes?" Rachel gave her a quick nod. "And fruit?"

"Yes, sweetheart."

She was content with her negotiations then.

"Okay. I forgive you." Rachel stood up and took her daughter's hand again leading her around the corner of the small hallway to the stairs.

"That's very big of you. Now keep your voice down or you'll wake your brother, okay?"

She nodded eagerly as she placed a hand on the wooden banister.

"Mommy?" she whispered. "Your towel." Rachel absentmindedly raised her left hand to her head. She realized she was also still holding Santana's phone. She ran back to the bathroom of the master bedroom, ripping the towel from her head on the way and hung the damp towel on the towel rack. She placed the Blackberry on Santana's nightstand, choosing to ignore the morning's proclivities and focus on getting back to her day. Barbra was still waiting for her at the stairs when she returned.

"Shall we?"

They walked quietly down to the kitchen, splitting into different directions once they stepped on the linoleum floor. Barbra headed to a magazine rack on the floor in the corner of the room and retrieved a coloring book and a box of crayons before climbing into one of the white painted wooden chairs at the small kitchen table. She sat quietly, concentrating on keeping her strokes inside the lines despite the width of the jumbo crayons making it a difficult task. Rachel whisked the pancake batter in a large bowl to a rhythm as she softly hummed an accompanying melody while letting the plug in griddle heat up to 325 degrees. Little Barbra picked up on the melody and began singing along as Rachel started pouring the batter into small circular puddles. They sang the alternating parts and the harmonies, still both focused on their individual activities until they heard the thud from upstairs. They both paused and listened for the next bump.

_Thunk thunk thunk thunk_.

"Honey, go make-"

"I know, Mommy." Barbra hopped down from her seat and ran for the stairs. She was halfway back up the stairs when Caleb rounded the corner.

"No! I do myself!" he screamed.

Barbra crossed her arms and stayed on the stair she was. "Fine. But if you get hurt, I'm telling Mommy you wouldn't let me help." Caleb turned around with his butt facing her and began backing himself down the stairs. Once he was two steps away from her, Barbra held on tightly to the banister and backed her way down carefully one step at a time with each step he cleared safely. He took off running for the kitchen as soon as he was on sturdy ground again but Barbra raced to beat him back to the table. He had a habit of breaking every crayon he touched so she was overprotective of the last box that still had eight whole crayons. She scooped up the crayons from the table while he was still getting his Lightning McQueen coloring book from the rack. He was shuffling back to the other side of the table, pulling up his glow in the dark rocket ship pajama pants when Rachel addressed him.

"Well good morning, Caleb." He was eyeing the crayons in his sister's fists and struggling to get into his chair. "Mornin, Mummy." Barbra kept her grip tight and stared him down as he frowned at her. He was on his knees in the chair reaching for the crayons in her hand. She turned her body away from him. She'd never be able to color with him hawk eyeing her crayons but if it was a choice between defending the crayons and shading another princess' dress, the crayons were the easy choice. They would live to color another day. He was just about to yell when the phone rang. He kicked his legs out from beneath him and pushed himself up and out of the chair. "Got it!" Rachel was setting out a selection of fruit to slice while the first batch of silver dollar pancakes was cooling down. Caleb was in the adjoining living room for no more than a minute before he ran charging back into the kitchen with the cordless handset. He looked at his sister's hands which were now clasped together and free of dyed wax sticks. She had quickly boxed the crayons the second he turned away from her and handed the box to her mother who had stashed them on a shelf behind the glasses in the cabinet. Barbra smiled at him as he tried to piece together what had happened.

"Caleb?" Rachel tried to get his attention. His entire face was scrunched up. He was still staring at his sister as he stumbled toward his mother with the phone. His sister's smile didn't budge. "It's Mama." He handed off the phone without looking at her and returned to the table. He ducked his head and walked right beneath the table. Barbra looked back at her mother who responded with a smile and a wink before putting the phone to her ear.

"Hello?"

Caleb walked in circles around the table, even lifted his sister's arms one by one, trying to find the missing crayons.

"Hey, babe. How's your morning going?" She thought about answering the question honestly but it sounded like she was being baited for just that.

"It's been normal. Making breakfast right on schedule. Has your day been well? Did your early start help?" She put the smaller fruits in a strainer and placed them in the sink beneath a low stream of cold water. She ran a green apple beneath the water and placed it on the cutting board.

Santana was quiet for a pause too long. She tried to keep her voice playful.

"Obviously I shouldn't have started my day so early. I guess I left my phone there?"

"You did, actually. I found it while I was making the bed."

They both paused. Rachel turned the water off and let the fruit drain. She grabbed the apple slicer from the utensil drawer and shut the drawer with a loud bang.

"So did Brittany reach you?"

The joking tone dropped from Santana's voice. "Yes. Thank you for passing on my number. Listen, can you just turn my phone off? I forgot to charge it last night so it'll die soon but I'd rather not have it be completely drained. No one else should be calling anytime soon."

Rachel was suddenly furious.

"Sure. Anything else I can do for you? I really need both hands to finish preparing the first meal of our children's day."

"I... no. That's all, I guess. Lov-" Rachel pressed the end call button on the phone before Santana could finish the sentence. She slammed the handset onto the counter, alarming both Caleb and Barbra. She pulled herself together and lied to them.

"Never get old, babies. You start to lose control of your body." She opened and closed her hands repeatedly for emphasis. Caleb was standing in the corner near the magazine rack, his hands clenching tufts of his straight black hair. He still hadn't found the treasure he sought and he looked like he could cry at any second. She quickly heeded off the tears and told them to clear the table. His mood changed 180 degrees with the prospect of food replacing the coloring book on his side of the table. Rachel turned back to the counter and positioned the slicer evenly on top of the apple and pressed down with both hands. She flicked the seeds into the sink and scooped a handful of strawberries on to the cutting board. She sliced through them smoothly with a paring knife from the butcher block. She pulled two plastic divider plates from the cabinet and splayed four pancakes in a line in the biggest section of the plates. She put the same number of apple spears in one of the smaller dividers then green grapes and strawberries in the plate on the right but only grapes on the left. She returned to the refrigerator and pulled out a container of pre cubed cantaloupe and placed a couple pieces on the right plate. She poured maple syrup on both plates, just enough to moisten the pancakes, before carrying the plates over to the table and placing the fuller one in front of Barbra. Caleb was in a green fruit only phase but no melons. It had been a horrible clean up when Santana had tried to introduce him to honeydew. He was already about to dig in with his hands, again positioned on his knees in his chair.

"Unh unh!" Rachel chastised him. She grabbed the booster seat for him from the floor. He stood up in his chair and gripped her around the neck so she could lift him. She positioned the padded seat in the empty chair but held him in the hug longer than she needed to. He squeezed her neck tighter, as if he knew she needed it. But he had always been intuitive of others' feelings. Whenever someone needed to be reminded of the good in life, there was Caleb, smiling, offering hugs, an overtold knock knock joke, always with the wrong punchline, or even just a pat on the back. She squeezed him for a second longer before lowering him back down to his seat. Barbra was also intuitive but she was more of a verbal counselor. She looked at her mother's face and gave her a worried expression. Rachel half winked at her and patted her shoulder softly. She grabbed them two spoons from the drawer and set them next to their plates. She pulled a fork out as well and quickly split each pancake in half with quick flicks of her wrist. They went to work on the food and she pulled their small plastic cups from the cabinet and set them on the counter before retrieving their crazy straws from the drawer. They would want milk once their meal was done. She looked at the remaining pancake batter and the still hot griddle. She grabbed a few grapes from the strainer still in the sink and left the kitchen after unplugging the griddle and pushing it to the back of the counter. She opened the curtains in the living room to let the sunlight illuminate and warm the room.

She looked down at the grapes in her hand not understanding why she had bothered to grab them in the first place. She shoved them in her mouth anyway and slowly walked upstairs to the bedroom she shared with her wife. Once in the half bathroom, she plugged in the hair dryer and flat iron and ignored the phone that was now the size of a comprehensive dictionary in her eyes, still sitting on the edge of the nightstand. She went about applying her eyeliner and a coat of a soft maroon lipstick. There was no way she could turn on the hair dryer with the kids still downstairs so she began straightening things that didn't need to be straightened in the bedroom. She was getting closer and closer to the bed with every distraction she touched. Before she could stop herself she was standing next to the bed again with the phone in her hand.

"Just turn it off, Rachel. You are being ridiculous. Press the power button and walk away."

The index finger of her right hand slowly inched up the smooth metallic edge of the phone towards the power button. The small embossed circle on the rubber button grazed the skin of her fingertip. All that was left to do was apply pressure. She removed her finger from the button.

"If there's nothing to worry about then there's nothing to find", she told herself as she navigated through the onscreen menus to the message inbox. Brittany had not only called that morning. She had also tried texting.

"I need an answer, San. Soon."

"Are we making this move or not?"

"Did you tell her yet?"

No previous messages from her. She turned the phone off and put it back on the nightstand. Her heart was racing and her hands shook uncontrollably.

"_So I had an interesting lunch today."_

"_New menu item at Panera?"_

"…_I… No." Santana had laughed as Rachel continued to hang the suit jacket that Santana had just placed in the closet on the wrong hanger, apparently. "I ran into Brittany again. Well, she ran into me, actually."_

"_Really? She lives near here? We should have her over soon. I should have gotten her number at the reunion."_

"_Slow down, Martha Stewart! She's just passing through on business. But if I meet her at a trash can again, I'll be sure to get you her number, okay?"She crossed back over to the closet to drop her shirt in the dry clean only laundry basket. "She actually told me a really funny joke. Wanna hear it?" _

_She continued talking without waiting for permission from her wife as she unbuttoned her dress pants. "So there was once this married couple who were deciding on baby names for their first born child. They agreed that the one giving birth would be the one naming the child but that the name still had to be a mutual agreement." Rachel stepped back giving Santana room to bend down and scoop up the pants she had just stepped out of. "So when the little gem is placed in her mommy's arms, Mommy tells Mama she has always wanted one and only one name for her daughter." Rachel covered the smile on her face with her hand as she realized where the 'joke' was headed. Santana raised an eyebrow at her but dropped her pants in the same laundry basket as her shirt and pressed on. _

"_But with the religious and ethnic differences in this couple, Mama doesn't really approve of the name. So the mommy thinks and thinks and thinks of another name. She even lets the nurse take the newborn to the nursery without a name because she is so distraught that her wife doesn't like this beautiful culturally historic name that she has had her heart set on since she herself was just a child. So when she finally decides on a second name, her wife is all too happy to settle for it…" Rachel's smile crinkled the corners of her eyes. Santana playfully frowned and squinted her eyes at Rachel._

"_I have a feeling you already know the punch line. Should I continue?"_

_Rachel uncovered her mouth and placed her hands on her hips. She was still smiling as she requested that Santana finish the joke. _

"_Well, the happy couple leaves the hospital the next morning coddling a beautiful little girl with the most gorgeous brown eyes and little wisps of dark hair just barely covering her perfect little domed head and a birth certificate with the name Barbra Alana Berry-Lopez. But what's the joke? Apparently Hadassah? The first name pick? Was never an actual option. Because _**Barbra**_ was actually the name that the mommy had wanted all along. And her wife is a real dumb ass. Funny, right?" Santana finally smiled as Rachel whispered an apology before she laughed._

"_I am so glad you're getting these little glimpses of my younger self through your chance meetings."_

Now she wondered how many chance meetings had Santana chosen to omit from their evening conversations. Her fingertips were pressed to her closed eyes before she remembered the mascara on her lashes. She pulled her hands away from her face and pressed them together with her index fingers to her lips as if she were silencing her own prayers. She hadn't heard the stomping on the stairs but the frantic trot into the bedroom could not be ignored.

"Whoa!" She stood from the bed with her arms outstretched and her hands signaling Caleb to stop just a few feet from the bed. His face was still coated with his sticky breakfast. "Show me your hands." He mirrored her stance and showed her his dirty hands. A smirk replaced the frown on her face as she dropped one arm and spun a finger on the other hand in a circular motion cueing him to turn back around in the direction he had just come from, and head to the bathroom. She followed him as he skipped back into the hallway and to the bathroom. He waited patiently with his arms resting on the high sink basin, slyly trying to reach the fountain on his own. Rachel slid the yellow stepstool across the floor with her foot, making small clicking sounds as each of the four stubby legs ran over the tiny squares of the tile surface. Caleb stepped to the side with his arms still on the cold sink's edge.

"Okay. Up up."

She held him steady as he stepped up on the stool. They kept the soap on the second shelf inside the medicine cabinet out of the children's reach. She pulled the soap pump out and dispensed a small amount of foam into Caleb's waiting palm. She turned on the water to a warm temperature and held Caleb's empty hand beneath the water. Barbra walked into the bathroom holding her hands up in the air as if she were a surgeon waiting for someone to glove her.

"Caleb got syrup on the banister."

"Of course he did." Caleb looked up at her with a smile as he continued to lather his hands with the soap. Rachel smiled back at him before grabbing a face towel and dampening it in the sink. She raised her eyebrows to Barbra who readily responded.

"I got this, Mommy." She took Rachel's place supervising her little brother to make sure he kept the water in the sink and dried his hands on a towel instead of his shirt. "Wipe your mouth too. It's dirty."

Rachel shook her head as she heard herself in her daughter's words. She placed the towel on the wood and curled her fingers around the banister, walking slowly down the stairs to remove the traces of Caleb's journey. Her mind was working at an opposite speed thinking back over the years she had spent with Santana; the countless break ups and make ups, the fleeting moments of doubt, the constant arguments about when to start a family. The recent months of having to keep a plate warm in the oven when Santana would work past her normal hours. And now she questioned what had it all been for. She wondered if she was the only one still in the relationship. She had always been the one to fight for them but maybe it was time to throw the towel into the ring. She stared at the towel clenched in her hand as she reached the last step and the end of the banister. Caleb was smothering his face in his dinosaur bath towel that was hanging from the towel bar as his sister washed her hands at the sink when Rachel appeared in the doorway.

"Hey. You guys wanna go on a little vacation to see Paw Paw and Grampa?"

Both of their little faces lit up at the proposal but Barbra wanted details.

"Right now?"

"Sure! Why not? We can surprise them. What do you think?"

"Is Mama coming too?"

"Not this time. She has work to do here."

Barbra stared at her mother as intensely as she could as if she could read minds if she stared hard enough. Caleb was doing his happy dance which really just consisted of him hopping around in a circle until he made himself dizzy. Rachel held the endearing smile on her face while her daughter struggled to find a deeper meaning to her plans. Barbra looked away with a huff, turned the water off, shook her hands over the sink, stepped down from the stepstool, dried her hands on her brother's towel and turned back to her mother, standing proper and rigid.

"Okay. But can we have our milk first?"

"Yes, you _may_."

**_A/N I'm not very good with the whole "reviews" thing (in other words, knowing people are actually invested in my writing is slightly frightening) but I do appreciate them in the end. People have been worrying about the nature of the relationship between Santana and Brittany in positive and negative ways. As I do not wish to spoil it in either direction I will only say that there will be one final part to this story and it has been planned to end this way from the beginning. Have a little faith in me, please. That wasn't very helpful, was it? ;-) Also, I know BBs no longer have the power button at the top but I'm hoping they return to that style. *Odd. Author is odd.*_**


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